It was the spring of my eighth-grade year and I was 14 years old. I lived
in a small rural community in the Midwest that had more farm animals than
people. And no, that is not a joke. But sarcasm aside, I really enjoyed
life in this agricultural town. People were neighborly and we all knew each
other. It was impossible to go to town without spending half your time
talking to folks and catching up on their lives.


That year I had decided to get a part-time job after school and on
weekends. There were a number of farmers and ranchers in the area that were
eager to hire teenagers to help around their properties. I landed a job
with a local cattle rancher two miles down the road from my home.


Mr. Williams, the ranch owner, was semi-retired. Over the past few years he
had gra

My New Guard Dogs (F, best)

Summary - Jessica moves to a new house and buys two, large, guard dogs to keep her company.

Note – This is a work of fiction, make-believe and fantasy. It is not based on real people or actual events. It is OK to have fantasies, but turning a fantasy into reality can destroy lives. Don't be a dick with other people's lives!

Hi, my name is Jessica Clark. I’m a 23 year old administrative assistant, living in Palm Springs, California. I’m five feet eight inches tall, with a very thin frame. I have long blonde hair, large breasts, shapely ass and a hungry little pussy!

I had moved to Los Angeles after high school, hoping to become an actress. After all, everyone said I had the looks for it, and I received a lot of praise for my acting in the high school

Cleaning Time, by adamlily1972@yahoo.com
Feedback to the author is welcome.

Synopsis: A cute wife is a crucial part of her husband’s ongoing nanotechnology work. She just doesn’t know it.

“Hey, you promised you’d pick up the place.”

My wife, being my wife. I played dumb and looked up distractedly from my laptop. “Uh?”

She looked sad, annoyed. “The place. While I was working. You said you’d pick it up.”

She gestured around the living room. Plates, bottles, wrappers, dust. The hair of Gunther, our black lab. I’m sure it smelled of me, too. I pretty much lived in this room and didn’t go much of anywhere these days.

“Oh. Right. Sorry. I got caught up in this project.” I gestured at the laptop.

Her face brightened. “Freelance? You got work?”

I nodded. “A little. Not lo